


Beached You to It

by thekumquat



Category: Cable and Deadpool
Genre: Dirty Talk, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Metal Arm Kink, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, and there was only one bed, literal handjobs, resolving sexual tension before you resolve emotional tension is not advised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-08-14 18:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16498178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekumquat/pseuds/thekumquat
Summary: Cable has to go into hiding, and he takes Wade along as back-up, just in case. This is the thin and barely-explored excuse to get Wade and Nathan alone on a tropical island where there's nothing to do but have sex.It's a good thing there isn't any unresolved romantic tension floating around that might make this no-strings-attached-sex-fest awkward at any point, right?...right?





	1. Chapter 1

Wade is not a man of considerable will power. He’s easily bored, easily confused, and easily distracted. There are certain things that make him react so suddenly and predictably it’s almost embarrassing. The smell of tacos, for instance, makes him hungry, no matter how much he’s eaten or where he is. The sight of Outlaw shuffling a pack of cards turns him on.

And no matter how hard he tries to stop himself, no matter how angry he is, no matter how many times he tells himself never again, there’s one sentence that can make him drop everything and come running.

“Wade, it’s Nathan.”

Okay, two sentences.

“I need your help.”

 

Which is how he found himself leaning on the X Mansion doorbell in his mask and civvies, dufflebag of clothes and guns at his feet, at 6 o’clock in the goddamn morning. What a hellish hour. Wade hadn’t been awake at 6 by choice in…ever. That was the glory of mercenary work – murder was possible 24 hours. You could set your own schedule.

“Heh. Merc work. Merc work. Mercwork mercwork mercwork mercwork merc—”

The door was wrenched open by an extremely irritable looking Jubilee. Her expression did not improve upon seeing him. Wade let go of the doorbell.

“Howdy,” Wade said.

“They want you in the hanger,” was all the greeting he got in return. Well, what else was new? The X Men had never liked him that much. He shouldered his bag and trotted after her, still muttering ‘mercwork’ under his breath. He liked the way it felt on his tongue.

Disapproving stares followed them down the hall, collecting on Wade like dust on a ‘joys of abstinence’ pamphlet in a teenager’s bedroom. Wade ignored them – he was used to it, he reminded himself – and focused instead on how his mouth had automatically shifted to “workmerc”. It was so odd. The two words rhymed, yet workmerc was easier to say. Why had Nathan asked  _him_ to come with him on this super-secret mission when he had a whole mansion full of X-Men to pick from, plus the Six Pack? Nathan was up to something. Nathan was  _always_ up to something.

**Hope this something doesn’t end with us blacklisted by the entire world. _Again._**

The hanger was surprisingly empty. Wade would have expected more people around for pre-mission prep, but he saw only Nathan, Logan, Cyclops and Jean.

“He’s here,” Jubilee called. Wade twiddled his fingers in a wave when everyone turned to look. It was hard to tell with the sunglasses in the way, but Wade was pretty sure from the wrinkles that appeared in Scott’s forehead, he was being glared at.

Jubilee rolled her eyes, which didn’t sting even though Wade hadn’t done anything to deserve it, and left abruptly.

 “Do I get to know what the big secret mission is now?” Wade asked as he crossed the hangar to the Blackbird.

“Yes,” Nathan said at the same time Scott said “No.” Nathan sighed.

“He doesn’t need to know,” Scott argued. It was clear this was the continuation of an argument that had been going on for quite some time.

“He won’t help if he doesn’t know.”

“Fine! So get someone else to go with you! Literally anyone else.”

“I don’t want to bring someone else. Wade’s the best man for the job, and  _again_ ,” Nathan said, interrupting Scott’s attempt to protest, “this is not up for discussion. I made my choice.”

“How do we know he’s not in on it?” Scott demanded. Jean’s expression shifted to ‘I don’t want to say it out loud and make the argument worse, but he kind of has a point’.

“If Wade had been hired to kill me, he’d have tried something by now. Wade doesn’t do sneaky.”

 _“What_?” Wade’s irritation at being discussed as if he wasn’t four goddamn feet away from the conversation flew out the window, replaced by outrage. “I haven’t taken a job to kill Nathan in years!”

“I know,” Nathan said soothingly. “That’s why I want you with me on this.”

“On what?” Wade asked.

“It isn’t safe;  _he_ isn’t safe!”

“We’re just worried for you, Nathan. We want to make sure you’re with someone you can trust.”

“Trust for what?” Wade tried again.

“I do trust him.”

**Oh snap, he does?**

“With what?” Wade demanded, deciding to shelve that little heart skip for later examination. Like, say, after the heat death of the universe. 

“With your life?”

Wade waved his hand frantically in between Scott and Nathan’s faces.

“ _Hellooooo_! Trust me about  _what_?”

“Someone is trying to kill me,” Nathan said, ignoring Scott’s noise of disapproval and Jean’s soft sigh.

“Oh for—that’s  _it_? You make me pack an entire bag of clothes and haul my ass out to West-ass-ter, New York just to ask me to go kill a dude?”

“No. I don’t know who it is. Nobody does. We suspect they – or an ally – have infiltrated the X-Men. I’m going into hiding until they’re caught.”

Wade nodded, not understanding in the least.

“And… _then_  I kill them?”

Logan let out a grunt that Wade chose to read as rude. Wade glared at him, but the man just ignored him and pulled a cigar out of his pocket.

“Look, I’m good at two things, and unless you guys are throwing a Mexican food eating contest, it’s safe to assume you’ve called me here to kill somebody.” He paused briefly. “ _Are_ you throwing--?”

“No!” Scott snapped.

“I want you to come with me,” Nathan said. “In case I get discovered.”

Though his voice was calm, Wade could sense the irritation bubbling below the surface of Nathan’s messiah face. He was playing his part as the voice of reason, but if Scott kept pushing, Nate was going to pop one way or another.

**Waitwaitwait hold up, _what_ did he say?**

“You want me to be a  _bodyguard_? For  _you?_  Mr six-foot-eight, three-hundred-fifty-pound telekinetic mutant messiah, and you need a  _bodyguard_?” 

Nathan sighed his familiar “Wade is being Wade” sigh. Wade liked it better than everyone else’s “Wade is being Wade” sigh, because Nathan’s version was always a little bit fond. Today it was very fond, bordering on affectionate.

“I need someone there to watch my back, and I trust you.”

“Oh,” Wade said stupidly. “Okay. That’s. Okay.” He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel or react to that, so rather than try and examine those emotions at any depth, he changed the subject. “Where are we going?”

Scott folded his arms and scowled, but Nathan perked up a little.

“So you’ll go?”

“I mean…yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” Wade realized how very… _very_ that sounded, and scrambled. “I mean, I’m already here. And let’s be real, this is not the first time you’ve come running to me for help.”

“He’s not  _running_ ,” Scott began, bristling, but Jean grabbed his elbow and whispered not-quite-quietly-enough in his ear “He’s joking.”

Wade decided, just this once, to focus on the topic at hand, namely keeping Cable’s big stupid messiah butt alive.

“So where are we going? You didn’t specify clothes, so I’m assuming not Siberia.”

“We can’t tell you,” Logan said around the cigar.

“Oh my god! He can talk! Nathan, your dog can talk!”

Logan growled and Nathan stepped swiftly between them.

“It’s in the tropics. You’ll like it.”

“That’s all I get?”

“Even I don’t know where we’re going. The fewer people who know, the less-likely it is whoever is after me will be able to get it out of them. Only Logan knows where we’re going, and nobody will be able to get it out of him, even with a telepath.”

“How long is this going to take?”

“Depends on how fast they can find the person trying to kill me.”

“Ballpark estimate for me, Nathan.”

Nathan shrugged.

“Probably less than a month.”

“A month? Oh my god. I already agreed to this didn’t I? It’s too late to back out?”

“Yes,” Nathan said with a smile.

“ _Ugh._ Please tell me this remote tropical location has wi-fi.”

Logan barked a laugh. “You barely have a cell signal out there.”

“Aw  _man,_ I’m gonna miss all my shows!” Wade grumped.

“Think of it as a vacation,” Nathan said.

**Worst. Vacation. Ever.**

 

 

One intercontinental plane ride later, Wade did have to admit that the safe house was very vacation-y.  The island was a small dot in the center of a dazzlingly blue ocean.  Half of it was covered by a small jungle of palm trees; the other half was tropical grasses and a white sand beach. A small cottage had been built smack in the middle, pretty as a picture.

“Very picturesque,” Wade said, stretching as high as he could go, trying to crack the kinks out of his back.

“You want to give us a hand with this?” Logan asked, dumping a box down by the stairs up to the cottage.

“No. That took for-eh-verrrr. Isn’t this jet supposed to be super-duper fast, or something?”

“It’s supersonic.” Nathan said. “Four times faster than the average commercial airline, so be thankful. It could have been worse.” He turned to Logan. “Are you sure we weren’t followed?”

“Positive. No one knows where we are but me.”

“We’re in Malaysia, east off the coast of Sabah.” Wade raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, looking out over the water at the distant horizon. 

Logan swore, tossing Wade’s bag unceremoniously onto the ground.

“How the  _hell_  do you know that?”

“It took us almost five hours to get here, travelling south-east from upstate New York. If Nathan is right and the Blackbird is four times faster than a regular plane, we’re talking somewhere in the 20 to 22 hour flight zone, which is pretty much on the other side of the world. General temperature, local flora, wind direction, position of the sun, etcetera. Malaysia. Sabah. East.” He looked back to find both Nathan and Logan staring. “Should I take a bow, or do you just want to do, like, art house finger snaps?”

 “You should have enough supplies to last you for a few weeks. If you run out, radio in and I’ll bring more.” Logan shot Wade a dirty look and stomped off towards the plane.

Wade and Nathan stood and watched in silence while the plane took off. Only when it was a speck in the distance did Nathan speak.

“That was very impressive, Wade.”

“I’m not an idiot, you know. Just crazy.”

Nathan chuckled.

“I know.” He turned and headed towards the house. Wade watched him go for a moment.

  **Think we should tell him we just read the coordinates off the ship’s navigation while we were fucking around in the cockpit three hours ago?**

“…Naaah.”

The house was single story and small, with high windows and fresh white paint. Built partway into a hill, a long flight of stairs led up to the single doorway. The area beneath the house was hidden in shadow and a few tastefully positioned but overgrown plants, but when Wade squinted he could see a few kayaks and the squat bulk of a generator.

“I’ll go get the generator started if you’ll take the bags up,” Nathan offered. Wade, not particularly mechanically inclined, shrugged and began to lug the supplies up the stairs. He regretted it almost immediately.

“Jesus, what did you put in here, rocks?”

“Books,” Nathan called from under the deck.

“Buy a fucking kindle! You’re from the future!”

He got no direct answer, but he was pretty sure he heard a chuckle.  

The inside of the house was the slightly twee, pseudo-rustic aesthetic of every Pottery Barn catalogue ever printed. Everything was either sandy-colored or blue or covered in rough hemp rope and seashells. All that was missing was a piece of artfully distressed wood with ‘every day is beach day’ painted on it. Maybe even a ‘live laugh love’ picked out in sea glass.

There was a click and a whirr as the air conditioning turned on, cool air brushing away the stuffy, disused smell that hung thick in the air. Eager to stretch his legs and start exploring after sitting still for so long, Wade hurried to put away the supplies. The kitchen was already stocked with the usual safe-house store of non-perishables, so the X Men had sent the perishables. Fruits, vegetables, meat, all meant to make the stay pleasant instead of a brutal necessity. No cold beans out of a can or military surplus MRE’s for mutant Jesus, no sir!

In a stroke of very convenient timing, Nathan arrived at the top of the stairs just as Wade was finishing up. Hmm. Narrative convention or Nate hovering outside until he was sure Wade was done so he wouldn’t have to do any extra work?

“Who lives here?” Wade asked him instead of accusing, just in case.

“It’s one of the X Men’s more secure safe houses. I think Logan comes here sometimes.”

“Oh my god, please tell me he did the décor. I  _need_ to know that Wolverine has the style of a fifty-year-old housewife from Rhode Island.”  

Nathan snorted.

“Don’t say that where he can hear you.”

“Or what, he’ll stab me?”

“Yes.”

“Like he’s never done that before.”

Supplies away, Wade began to wander in and out of the rooms. He found a dining room (“boring”), a library (“yawn”), and “sweet baby Jesus and the mother Mary, there is a god!”

A room containing a giant, top-of-the-line flatscreen and a wall of DVDs. He eagerly ran through the available titles.

**Lotta rom-coms in here.**

“I guess Wolvie has a soft side.”

**Or this is secretly where he brings his love interests before they’re tragically fridged before his eyes.**

“Or that. Ooh,  _You’ve Got Mail._  Hey Nate, we should spend our vaycay expanding your knowledge of twenty-first century media. Yeah, yeah, I know you can just look it up, but reading the Wikipedia plot synopsis and actually watching the film are two different—Nate?”

Nathan was no longer in the kitchen. Wade glanced down the hallway and saw him standing in the doorway to another room, a very strange expression on his face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Nathan opened his mouth and closed it again, at a loss for words. Starting to worry, Wade dropped  _Must Love Dogs_  on the counter and hurried over.  

“…oh.”

The king sized bed, the only bed in the entire house, sat passively in the center of the bedroom, as if it didn’t even care how much trouble it was causing.

“How good are you at sharing?” Nathan asked weakly. Wade leaned on the doorjam and gave Nathan a Look. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He let out a huge sigh and dumped his bag in the corner of the room. “We’ll switch off every other night.”

“Yawn.”

Nathan looked at him quizzically. Wade grinned.

“Fight you for it.”

 

 

“Okay,” Wade said, face down in the sand. “This was maybe a bad idea.”

“Give up yet?” Nathan asked conversationally.

“Not quite.” Wade, who had managed to keep his legs tucked under him when he went down, kicked back, hard. There was a grunt and the weight on his head vanished. Wade got up and brushed himself off. Nathan stayed down, curled up in a protective comma shape.

 “I’m going to assume I get the bed tonight?”

His answer was a noise like a rusty hinge.

“Great! I’m gonna go get some lunch. I always get hungry after I absolutely trash somebody in hand-to-hand combat.”

He left Nathan on the ground and trotted back up the path to the house, whistling.

 

Wade had nearly finished putting together sandwiches when Nathan limped in.

“Hey, I made roast beef. That cool with you?”

“That’s fine,” Nathan said, still sounding a little breathless.

“Great. Hey, uh… no hard feelings, right?”

Nathan’s expression promised a swift and terrible revenge.

“You cheated,” he said.  

“I fought dirty,” Wade corrected, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

“That’s the same thing!”

“No, it’s not. There’s a very important strategic difference.”

“Which is?” Nathan asked, gingerly sitting down on one of the chairs at the table. Wade tore off a piece of bread and flicked it at Nathan’s head.

“I say so.”

Nathan glared at him again and Wade grinned.

“Regret bringing me yet?”

“Of course not,” Nathan said. “I just regret not bringing enough duct tape to tie you to a chair.”

Wade stuck his tongue out and took a huge bite of his sandwich to hide the fact that his stomach had just done some very un-manly flip flops.

 _Of course not_. Wade had just kicked Nathan right in the intimates, but  _of course not_. Nathan had been on a five hour flight with Wade bouncing off the walls, but  _of course not_. There should be rules about saying things that like that to people. You should at least have to give a head’s up.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day dawned bright and hot on a supremely cranky Wade. He’d woken up at four o’clock in the morning and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning helplessly. Apparently a healing factor meant fuck-all to one’s circadian rhythm.

But he couldn’t let Nathan know that, so when he left the bedroom it was with a stretch and an exaggerated yawn of contentment. 

“Rise and shine, sleepy-head!” he called. Despite his best effort, the words wobbled on the way out, because he’d caught sight of Nathan’s sleeping arrangements. The couch was deep enough to accommodate Nathan’s bulk, but not nearly long enough to hold all six-foot-eight of him. The poor mutant messiah had gone to sleep with his knees half-hooked over the couch leg, only partly covered in a single thin blanket embroidered with anchors.

It was, to put it mildly, fucking hysterical.  

“Nathan. Natey-poo. Sweetums.” Wade leaned over and tapped Nathan on the forehead with a finger. Nathan’s hand shot up and grabbed Wade by the wrist. Wade grinned as Nathan glared up at him.

“Sleep well?”

“Rematch,” Nathan said. “Right now.”

 “I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet,” Wade said.

“Do it later,” Nathan said. Wade wanted to protest but Nathan was up and had him by the Standard Female Grab Area before he could even start. He yelped as his arm was almost pulled out of the socket when Nathan dragged him outside and down the stairs.

“Hey, hey, slow down! What’s the big rush.”

“You cheated yesterday, and _today_ we are going to _settle this_.”

Wade was hauled out onto the flat, sandy ground beside the stairs that they had used as an impromptu

“Alright, alright, just give me a second to wake up—“

Nathan punched him square in the face.

“Ow!”

**Well fuck, we’re awake now!**

Wade hurriedly ducked another punch.

“Would you—“ Wade started and cut off with an _oof_ as a foot connected with his stomach. Fighting down the sudden wave of nausea, Wade only just managed to roll out of Nathan’s reach. He swung up and buried his fist in the soft section just under Nathan’s ribs, driving the air out of his lungs.

“Jesus, aren’t we Mr. Crankypants this morning! You’re supposed to be too holy to be a sore loser—“

An invisible force seized Wade, pinning his arms to his side. His feet left the ground and he was slammed down hard into the sand once, twice. He gasped and wheezed for air, but no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t break free. Nathan, the big crybaby he was, was using his TK on him.

**Can confirm, comicbook version of this has the blue glow everywhere.**

“This is _cheating_ ,” Wade said, and then groaned. “Don’t you dare say it—“

“It’s not cheating,” Nathan said, oozing such smug satisfaction he should have glistened in the sunlight. “It’s fighting dirty.”

Wade could manage enough movement to flip Nathan off, and did so.

“I win,” Nathan announced. “Tap out, Wade.”

“Blow me.”

The grip tightened, and Wade felt his ribs creak.

“Fine,” he croaked. “Fine, you win, you _dick_.”

The invisible grip instantly evaporated, leaving Wade sprawled out on the sand.

“I’ll go make breakfast,” Nathan said, tone mild and pleasant and insufferably smug. “Do you like pancakes?”

“You _know_ I do,” Wade said, annoyed. “How can you even ask me that question?”

“Well if you stop whining, I’ll let you have some.”

“Whining!” Wade gasped, and scrambled to his feet. “How _dare_ you sir! This is justified complaining! You want whining? Oh I’ll give you whining! Get back here! Hey!”

 

The weirdness started on the fifth day. Looking back on it, Wade was never sure if he should be surprised that it took that long, or that it happened so quickly. Either way, it took almost a week of bumming around watching old romcoms and sparring for who had to sleep on the couch before things got……interesting.

It started with Wade waking up in a puddle of sweat. The air was thick and soupy, sticking to his lungs with every breath. The inside of his mask was a tiny sauna. He could feel the sweat and condensation beading on the fabric, sliding into his eyes and down his cheeks.

With a “yech” of disgust, Wade tore his mask off and tossed it across the room. His shirt lingered only to scrub his face before it and his boxers joined the mask. Even total nudity could only provide the barest relief from the choking heat. Everywhere his skin touched fabric felt like it was burning.

“What the _fuck,”_ he moaned, and slithered onto the floor, which was about half a degree less terrible than the bed.

**Did we die? Is this hell? Pretty sure this is hell.  I don’t even have corporeal form and I’m too hot.**

Wade craned his neck to check the time, and found that the face of the digital alarm clock was blank. Loath to get off the nice coolish floor, he reached up and fiddled experimentally with the bedside lamp switch. Nothing happened.

No power, which meant no air conditioning, which meant a house baking in tropical heat, because some genius had decided to plop a western style house in the middle of the tropics. The house’s build was inherently designed for cold winters and mild summers, to trap and hold the heat. The place was an oven.

“Goddamn _ang mo_ ,” Wade muttered to himself.

With some reluctance, Wade pulled on a dry pair of shorts and went in search of Nathan. A quick sweep of the house turned up nothing, so he stepped outside. Here, at least, a sea breeze swept away some of the oppressive heat.

“Nate!” he bellowed.

There was a metallic _clang_ and a curse in a language that wouldn’t exist for another thousand years. Down the stairs and around the back of the house, Wade found Mutant Jesus hunched over the generator shirtless, sweaty, and smeared with engine grease.

“Generator’s busted,” Nathan explained without glancing up.

“Oh, I thought you were taking it apart for fun.”

Nathan gave him an irritable look. Wade ignored it and crouched next to him, peering into the guts of the broken machinery.

“How much do you know about generators?” Wade asked.

“I know enough,” Nathan said, a touch defensive. “It’s just rusted. I guess Xavier doesn’t check in on this place very often.”

“In his defense, the house isn’t exactly wheelchair accessible. Hey! Why _isn’t_ this place up to code? You’d think Wheels would make a point of being able to use all of his many and various properties.”

“You’d think that,” Nathan said, mild tone belying the annoyed dent between his eyebrows. Wade was relatively sure the irritation wasn’t directed at him, so he kept going.

“I mean, sure, it’d be expensive as hell to ship out the equipment and the materials and the builders, but what good is all that money if you can’t go to your own house? What if he wants a beach getaway? Or what if he needs to go into hiding and all of his other safehouses are compromised? Then what?”

As Wade chattered on, he saw Nathan’s face smooth out, the tension disappear from his neck and shoulders. That was…weird. Usually when one was working on an irritating task, one preferred not to be nattered at. Wade stopped talking. After a few seconds, Nathan looked up at him, surprised.

“What?” he asked. Wade shrugged, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“You’re trying to focus. I’m distracting you.”

Nathan smiled.

“You’re keeping me from crushing this thing into a tiny cube is what you’re doing.” The smile grew a little wider and a little fonder. “Besides, I like listening to you talk.”

Wade wished he was still wearing his mask and prayed that the heat rushing to his face couldn’t show through the scar tissue. Clearing his throat, he launched into a list of money saving tips that included paying academy students in AP credit to construct wheelchair ramps.

It was another half an hour before Nathan straightened up and wiped his hands on a rag. Wade halted his monologue about the dangers of unlicensed trout fishing.

“Success?” he asked hopefully.  

“Let’s find out.” Nathan flipped a switch and the generator roared to life. His grin was so triumphant, so pleased that Wade threw his arm around Nathan’s shoulders in a hug.

“We did it! Teamwork saves the day again!”

That was when the weirdness happened. Instead of a dry remark about how much assistance was required to qualify as “teamwork”, Nathan just stared at him. Not angry or weirded out, but…alarmed?

Then Nathan stood up so fast he almost knocked Wade over.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” he announced, slightly out of breath.

“Make it a cold one,” Wade said. “You look like you’ve got a sunburn going on there.”

He gestured to Nathan’s face, which was beginning to tint pink. Nathan ducked his head and hurried into the house, leaving Wade staring after him.

**Okay. That was…weird.**

“Weird indeed, text box. Weird indeed.”

That day Wade won the fight so easily he accused Nathan of throwing it. Nathan denied it, saying he was tired and sore from working on the generator that morning, but his eyes were a little shifty. Wade didn’t push too much, because it hadn’t really felt like giving up so much as Nathan trying to fight him without any actual body contact.

It would have been food for thought, if Nathan had not spontaneously agreed to a Tom Hanks marathon. Wade had been so giddy that he didn’t think about Nathan’s strangeness until much later, when--

**Well, you’ll see.**

 

The next day, Wade decided to go for a swim in the ocean. What use was a tropical getaway that didn’t involve frolicking with dolphins?

There weren’t any dolphins or even sharks, but Wade did his best.  There were plenty of little fish darting around in the water, and he amused himself by trying to chase them. Not being a particularly proficient swimmer, he didn’t come anywhere near catching one and almost drowned twice, but he had fun and that was the important part.

Eventually he got bored of the fish and decided to go lay out on the beach and snooze. Sure, he’d get sand all up in his everywhere, but the warmth would be nice after the chill of the water. When he surfaced, however, he found that Nathan had beat him to it, and done a much better job of it. The man had found a large beach umbrella, a few towels, and even a little folding chair to sit on.

 _Why he is always better equipped than me?_ Wade thought grumpily, starting to swim.

**Because he has friends, allies, better connections, plans things in advance—**

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Wade muttered. He swam until the water was only up to his knees, then stood up. The motion caught Nathan’s attention, and Wade shifted into a sexy Baywatch walk, flipping long, imaginary hair over his shoulder.  He kept the act up until he was at the edge of the water and close enough to see Nathan’s face.

Nathan was staring at him with an expression not unlike the one he’d been wearing when he first saw the bed, and a little like the one from when Wade had hugged him by the generator. Wade couldn’t tell what it was, so he decided to ignore it.

“No? Not working for you? How about The Birth of Venus?” He posed.

“Why are you naked?” Nathan managed at last.

“If I knew I was going on a tropical island getaway, I’da brought my speedo. Sadly, all I have are guns. Hmm… I could _make_ a bathing suit out of guns. Ooh, or out of bullets! Go for a chainmail effect. Wait, no; that might pinch. You should get naked.”

Nathan dropped the book he was reading.

“ _What?”_

Wade jerked his thumb at the water.

“Come swim with me. Haven’t you ever gone skinny dipping before?”

Again Nathan was at a loss for words.

“No,” he said at last. “I haven’t.”

“Well ditch the Levis and let’s cross it off your bucket list!”

“I don’t have a bucket list,” Nathan said. Wade flopped his head back and groaned dramatically.

“Ugggh, come _onnn_ , Priscilla! Relax! Live a little! When are you ever going to get this chance again?”

“Alright, alright, if it’ll make you happy.”

“I’m never happy,” Wade growled, in such a good imitation of Logan that Nathan burst out laughing. “Grr, rar, I am a machine powered by rage and manpain, if I ever smiled I would immediately shrivel up and die, grr.”

“ _Definitely_ don’t do that where he can hear you,” Nathan said, grabbing hold of the hem of his shirt. Wade opened his mouth to respond, and felt the words die in his throat.

He’d seen Nathan shirtless before. Hell, he’d seen Nathan naked before, several times. Nathan had a very lax attitude about clothing in general, something something, different social mores, something future something something. Wade had probably seen Nathan out of clothes as often as he’d seen him in them.

And yet…it was different. Maybe it was because they were alone, maybe it was the way the sunlight gleamed on the metal arm, maybe Wade was getting sick from all the saltwater he’d swallowed. Whatever the reason, watching Nathan casually strip down was one of the sexiest things Wade had ever seen.

Wade was suddenly extremely aware that he was totally naked and had no way of hiding any awkward reactions that might occur from that train of thought. Nathan turned to say something and looked around, bewildered, before spotting Wade back in the water, where it was a concealing waist-deep level.

“What are you doing over there?”

“I got bored,” Wade lied.

“I look away from you for thirty seconds…” Nathan complained good-naturedly, wading into the water. He made a face. “I thought it would be warmer.”

“Don’t be a baby. Besides, I’m the only one here and I know it’s just shrinkage.”

Nathan rolled his eyes and flicked his fingers. Though he was still several feet away, water splashed up into Wade’s face, making him sputter.

“Rude,” he said, pointing a finger at Nathan.

“No, that was childish. _This_ is rude.”

An invisible grip latched around Wade’s ankle and pulled sharply. Wade vanished under the water, faceplanting on the sea bottom and swallowing about a pound of sand in the process.

 _Wise guy, eh?_ Wade thought. _Two can play this game._  

**We already fought for the bed today. And won.**

_Double or nothing it is_.

Wade’s tumble had sent up clouds of sand, obscuring the view from above the water. He thrashed around, pretending to have trouble righting himself – he could hear Nathan laughing through the water, the _dick_ – then slipped through the water like a fish. He circled Nathan, approaching from behind.

**Damn, he’s got a nice ass.**

_Focus, damnit. We’re here for revenge, not oogling._

**Oogling?**

Wade surfaced with a crash, wrapped his arm around Nathan’s neck and dragged him backwards under the water, like a great white surfacing to tear down a dangling chunk of meat for a boat full of tourists. Unfortunately, Wade’s options were somewhat limited from here out. Unlike Nathan, he had to worry about actually killing his victim, so doing what he wanted to do – shove Nathan’s face into the sand and hold him under – was out.

Instead, he settled for bruising Nathan’s pride, sliding out of reach while the man flailed his way upright again, choking on water and heaving for air. It was always good fun to point and laugh.  

“You’re gonna have to face the truth sooner or later,” Wade called as Nathan floundered to the surface. “I’m better at this than you.”

“Oh we’ll see about _that_ ,” Nathan said, and lunged. Wade let out an embarrassingly girly shriek and tried to swim away, only for Nathan to land on him and drag him under the water. They fought and splashed and yes, _frolicked_ until the sun was at the horizon and they were both panting and exhausted. This time, when Wade collapsed back into the water, he spread out his arms and legs and floated.

“Truce,” he called.

“Truce,” Nathan agreed, mirroring his pose.

“Hey, how come you can float even with a hundred pounds of metal strapped to your ass?”

“I don’t know,” Nathan admitted. “It probably has something to do with the organic part of “techno-organic”.”

“Hmm. Awfully convenient.”

“Honestly, I’m grateful. I love to swim.”

“ _Really_?”

“Is it that surprising?”

Wade struggled to find words for why it was odd, why it felt so strangely personal to hear Nathan confess to an actual opinion.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say you _liked_ something before.”

“I like things,” Nathan said defensively.

“Name me five individual things you like that aren’t related to being mutant Jesus.”

“Hmph. I like _The Art of War_ by Sun—“

Wade made a loud, angry buzzer noise.

“Liar. Nobody _likes_ that book. They find it interesting or cool, but they don’t _like_ it. If you can’t think of five things, just say so.”

Nathan didn’t say anything right away. The silence was unreadable, and dragged out just long enough that Wade began to worry. When Nathan did speak, however, he sounded strangely cheerful.

“No one has ever called me out on that,” he said.

“That’s because people are idiots, Nathan. And I know you better than they do. So, five things, and every lie is another night I get the bed. And don’t say swimming, you already did that one.”

“Okay. Hmm. Five things…I like ice cream. We didn’t have that when I grew up.”

“Tragic,” Wade said, and meant it.

“I like mystery novels. I like to see if I can guess the ending before I get there.”

“Cute! That counts as one.”

Nathan grumbled, but continued.

“I like cats. I like good wine.”

“Nearing the finish line! You’re so close! I believe in you!”

“I like you.”

Wade sat up in shock. Unfortunately, he was floating on the water, so he immediately sank and inhaled another half a gallon of sea water. He struggled back to his feet, hacking and spitting. Forget “of course not”, _this_ needed a warning! Two warnings! A written notification 48 hours beforehand!

When Wade wiped water out of his stinging eyes and looked down, Nathan was looking at him with an expression that was partly amused and partly concerned.

“Nothing!” Wade blurted. “You’re—I’m—That’s--! Thanks! I guess!”

Nathan smiled and closed his eyes.

“I thought of a sixth thing: I like it when I can surprise you. You’re hard to throw off balance.”

That was almost as surprising as the first thing.

“What, really?”

“You adapt to just about anything. And like you said – you know me better than anyone. I always feel like you can see me coming a mile away.”

**Not to take away from the moment or anything but…hi boner.**

It was true: a few inches under the water, Wade was rock hard. Above the water, he was absolutely baffled. Nathan wasn’t saying anything particularly sexy. He wasn’t doing anything sexy either. But somehow, the sound of his voice – gentle, kind, even tender --  was sending a tingling heat across Wade’s skin.

Wade sat down. The water was a little too high to be comfortable, just tickling his chin, but it was better than risking Nathan standing up and seeing Wade Jr standing to attention.

God, of all the times to lose control over his anatomy.

Nathan looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

“I want to sit,” Wade said defensively. “There’s no law against that.”

Nathan rolled his eyes, smiled, and began to drift himself towards land.

“I’m going to go shower and make dinner.”

“I’ll be in in a minute,” Wade said. “I want to…take a lap. Of the island.”

With care, Nathan stood, giving him an odd look.

“Wade, that’ll take you almost an hour.”

“Half a lap, I don’t know! Can I not do things without your approval?” he snapped. He just needed time alone to think. And to kill his boner.

 Nathan frowned, good humor vanishing.

“Of course you can,” he said stiffly. “I’m not in charge of you.”

Morosely, Wade watched the man move back towards the island, shoulders tense.

**Oops.**

Wade sighed heavily and began to swim.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day Nathan was in a better mood, but there was a strange tension between them that Wade didn’t think had anything to do with what he’d said the day before. They kept getting in each other’s way, as if the house had shrunk to half its size overnight. Bumping hands while making breakfast, sliding past each other in the hallway, shoulders pressed together as they watched a movie neither of them could pay attention to.

As the day went on, it got worse, until the tension in the air was pulled tight like a rubber band, humming with kinetic energy, waiting to snap and send _something_ into violent, unstoppable motion.

**Potential energy. Kinetic is the one where—**

Whatever!

“So,” Nathan said awkwardly, sometime before dinner. He gestured with some hesitance towards the beach outside. “Should we…?”

Wade didn’t want to. He wasn’t sure why—he was always down for a good tussle, but today the thought of it brought a sense of apprehension, of standing on a knife edge, that walking out onto the sand would decide something he couldn’t undo.  

“Sure,” he said, because he couldn’t forfeit without Nathan asking questions that Wade wasn’t sure he had answers to.

Nathan seemed to be feeling it, too. The fight was half-hearted, punches telegraphed and footwork unsteady. If either of them had been in their element it would have been a cakewalk, but as it was, it was just kind of sad.

Almost by accident, Wade managed to land a solid punch square on Nathan’s mouth. It was a sissy punch, but it caught him off guard. The man stumbled back, and Wade didn’t follow the opening, feeling bizarrely as if he should apologize. Nathan reached a hand up to touch his mouth, and it came away bloody. When he met Wade’s eyes there was something dark there, not anger, but…something else. Something that made the back of Wade’s neck tingle.

Nathan threw himself at Wade, and the fight started for real. Nathan had a good hundred pounds of solid muscle and steel on Wade, but Wade was slippery, impossible to keep a grip on. They fought in total silence, not a word passing between them. The air between them was so electric, Wade was sure he was seeing sparks flickering in the corner of his eye.

Wade sidestepped a punch and dragged Nathan off balance with the momentum. Nathan took a quick step, righting himself and twisting his grip onto Wade's arm in the same breath. He threw Wade, who tucked and rolled back onto his feet. Wade tried to land a blow on Nathan's solar plexus and missed, his fist cracking against metal. Nathan grabbed Wade by the shoulders and tried to throw him to the ground. Wade caught a leg around Nathan’s, and brought him down with him. They landed hard. The wind was knocked out of both of them, enough that the fight ground to a halt. They lay there, panting for breath and staring at each other. 

Wade was very, _very_ aware of all the places Nathan’s body touched his, and of the way his weight pinned him to the sand.

The weird part, the part that was making the two of them stare wide eyed at each other, was how Wade’s leg was still tangled up around Nathan’s, inadvertently pressing their hips together. It was absolutely impossible to ignore that their dicks were separated by only a few layers of fabric. Possibly only two, if Nathan was also going commando that day. Wade felt like he should probably do something about this situation, but he couldn’t think of what. Nathan had him pinned. If Wade made even the slightest move, it would grind their hips together, which for good or ill would greatly exacerbate the situation. 

It would also exacerbate the situation if Nathan glanced at Wade’s lips briefly and then kissed him hard.

Which Nathan did do.

**Welp. We are now making out with Nathan Summers. That’s a thing. That we are doing. Right now, for real, not hallucinating. That’s his tongue in our throat. That’s his dick grinding up against ours. That’s—**

Nathan did _something_ with his teeth and his tongue to Wade’s mouth that made even the box/font shut up.

“Fuck me,” said a voice, and to Wade’s surprise it was his own. It also wasn’t an exclamation of surprise. It was a request. A plea, really, because Nathan had him all hot and bothered, stomach fluttering and mouth dry and heart pounding. “Not here though. I don’t want sand all up in my intimates.”

Nathan’s grin was wolfish and hungry.

The second they crossed the cottage’s threshold, Nathan slammed him against the nearest wall and kissed him again. Wade could taste the faint copper tang of Nathan’s blood on his tongue and it made him dizzy and hot. His request had become a mantra, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” but entirely in his head because Nathan was barely giving him time to breathe, let alone speak.

Suddenly Wade pulled away and swore.

“Lube,” he said. “Man, I should have realized this would happen. Should have brought _something_. No way our bromance could survive an extended period of alone time, although I woulda thought we could last longer than a week—”

Nathan kissed him again, biting at his lips. When they parted, Wade suggested they used Nature’s oral lubricant. Nathan made a face.

“No—“

“I can heal,” Wade protested.

“No,” was the firm reply. “We have—“

“Olive oil? When in Rome, etc? ”

Nathan put a hand over his mouth.

“There’s a box with lube and condoms under the bed.”

“Nuh- _uh_ ,” Wade said behind the hand.

Yet sure enough, when Nathan brought him into the bedroom and twitched his fingers, a small plastic tub slid out from under the palm tree-print bed skirt. The box didn’t have anything fancy or flavored or glow-in-the-dark, but there was a lot of it – enough to allow for quite a lot of fucking. Wade squinted suspiciously up at Nathan. The man raised his hands.

“I swear I didn’t bring them. I found them down there while I was putting our suitcases away.”

Wade grabbed a handful of condoms and let them slide back out of his hands as if they were coins from a treasure chest.

“Awfully convenient,” he murmured. “Thank you, magical fuck fairy. I’ll leave you a bag of my teeth.”

He held up a single condom between two fingers.

“Shall we?”

“Only if you promise to never say ‘a bag of my teeth’ ever again.”

“Best I can do is a soft maybe.”

“I’ll take it.”

Clothing was discarded at speed and soon Nathan was pressing Wade into the bed, mouthing at his neck like he didn’t even mind the clusterfuck horror that was Wade’s skin. Normally Wade would have appreciated it, but right now it was too soft for the burning desperation running through his veins, so he dragged Nathan back up to his mouth. While Nathan fumbled with the lube, Wade reached between them and palmed Nathan’s dick, making the man moan into his mouth. Wade liked the sound a lot, so he tightened his grip a little, stroking just enough to provide a little friction.

Suddenly he jerked away.

“Waitwaitwaitwait!” Wade grabbed Nathan’s wrist, but the man had stopped the moment Wade spoke.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“…can you use your other hand? For the lube.”

Nathan blinked and glanced at his left hand, gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. He looked back at Wade, nonplussed.

“I think it’s hot,” Wade said defensively.

“Oh. Sure. Okay.”

Why was Nathan acting like this was so unexpected? Surely _someone_ had told him before how sexy the metal parts were. Right? They had to. The metal muscles, the vice-like grip, the immense power that you could feel even when he was holding back…

But Nathan was looking awfully pleased, and the smile on his lips was downright shy.

**That is far too adorable for the wanton, sexy atmosphere we are going for.**

To counteract this, Wade arched up and bit down on Nathan’s neck, drawing out a growl. Before long they were back to kissing and rutting feverishly against each other. Wade only ended the kiss when he felt one warm metal finger slide inside of him. He threw his head back and moaned, grinding down.

“Oh my god that feels even better than I thought it would.”

“You like it?”

“No, it’s awful, that’s why I’m trying to fuck myself on it,” Wade said, hips squirming. The TO was warm but still a little bit below body temperature. Wade had expected it to be smooth, but he hadn’t thought about the little ridges where overlapping plates made the hinges of Nathan’s joints, or what that would feel like.

Good. It felt good.

 Nathan tightened his hold on Wade’s hip, pinning him down as he slid his fingers in and out with agonizing slowness.

“You know I can heal, right?” Wade said breathlessly, more than a little desperation in his voice. “You don’t need to stretch that much.”

“I’m not going to hurt you just because I’m in a hurry,” Nathan said firmly. “Even with your permission. Besides,” he added with a wicked little grin that made Wade shiver. “I’m looking for something.”

He found it a minute later, the little spot inside Wade that made him writhe and moan until Nathan swallowed the sounds in another kiss. Nathan was a tease, bringing him near the edge and then back down again until Wade was taut as a bowstring everywhere except where he needed to not be.

Nathan wasn’t unspeakably big, but felt a lot bigger than he looked. Maybe it had just been a while for Wade, but god, he wasn’t going to complain. He tilted his head back, trying to suck in a little more air, only for it to all rush out in a moan as Nathan bit down on the exposed skin. His toes curled up as Nathan’s cock dragged against his prostate, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine with every thrust.

Nathan wasn’t quiet in bed, but Wade tended to drown out just about everybody during sex. He babbled endlessly, ricocheting from topics like a pinball, occasionally spinning into outright gibberish.  

And Nathan never told Wade to shut up. Not once. Not even when Wade started talking about thanking Scott for his genetic service to the world re: Nathan’s dick.

Wade came first, the burst of stars behind his eyes turning whatever he’d been saying into a jumble of “shitfuckshitshitfuckohgodfuck”. It took Nathan a little longer, face pressed to Wade’s shoulder, silent but for ragged gasps. When he came, he dug his TO fingers so hard into the bed the sheets ripped.

They both collapsed back on the bed in a sweaty heap. Body temperatures dropped. Breathing and heart rates returned to normal. Sweat cooled. Awkwardness slid in through the door, settled itself between the two men, and politely reminded them that they were perfectly platonic buddies who had up and fucked for no real reason and without any lead up or conversation beforehand, and were going to have to continue living together for the foreseeable future.

Wade cleared his throat.

“So,” he said. “Uh, that happened.”

“Mmhm,” said Nathan, forcing a casual tone.

“I think we can probably chalk that up to nerves, right?”

“Yes,” said Nathan, a little too quickly. “Tension from being stuck in close quarters.”

“All that hand to hand combat was just, whew, just asking for trouble, right?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Awkwardness metaphorically opened its newspaper and settled in.

“Probably best if that’s a one-off,” Wade said weakly.

“Right. We wouldn’t want things to get…” Nathan trailed off, post-coital endorphins making it hard to string a sentence together.

“Weird,” Wade finished for him.

“Exactly. We’ll just take turns. For the bed, I mean,” Nathan added hurriedly.

“Yeah, totally. Probably should have been doing that from the get-go.” 

Half an hour later, Nathan was flat on his back, Wade riding his dick and moaning at a frankly embarrassing decibel. Two hours after that, Wade was face-down with his ass in the air, whimpering into the pillow as Nathan fucked him at a grueling pace.

They shared the bed that night, and the next night, and the night after that. They shared it during the day, too, although their sexual escapades

**sexcapades**

were not limited to the bedroom. Whatever tension had snapped between them, whatever spring had broken free seemed to have no intention of slowing down. Anything could set them off: brushing hands, eye contact that lingered for longer than a few seconds, breathing near each other.

While they weren’t consciously working down a checklist, by the end of the second week they had fucked at least once on every flat surface in the house, and then some. The bed was the most comfortable, obviously, but there was something to be said for Nathan bending Wade over the kitchen counter and the dining room table and the couch.  

Not that Nathan topped every time. Nathan wasn’t as flexible as Wade and Wade wasn’t as strong, so their options were a little more limited (Nathan could not bend himself in half while Wade held up against the wall, for example), but they didn’t let that stop them. One of Wade’s favorite memories would always be fucking Nathan so slowly he was begging while _Casablanca_ played in the background.

It wasn’t all sex -- even Wade had to take a break now and again – but in retrospect it would seem as if they’d spent their time on the island pretending to be in a porno. Not even an artsy one, either.  But also in retrospect, there were signs from the very beginning that the sex wasn’t just about sex.


	4. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I went on vacation and forgot the USB drive with the story on it, so I couldn't post this week's update. Instead, here is a quick sexy bit to tide you over until the proper update this weekend. Enjoy!

It was Nathan’s fault. When Wade suggested they watch  _ Casablanca _ , he really had wanted to watch the movie, no ulterior motives whatsoever. But then Nathan had, for no good reason, stretched his arms up and rested them on the back of the couch. 

Now, it wasn’t exactly the “excuse to put your arm over your date’s shoulders” move, because he just rested his ridiculously long arms across the back of the couch. But then he was leaving himself wide open, and he  _ knew  _ that showing trust turned Wade on! He knew it! And he was sitting pretty close to Wade, and the hint of TO just creeping over his collar was just  _ begging  _ to be nibbled on…

All Nathan’s fault. One hundo percent. Further proof: Nathan didn’t push him off or tell him to stop. Instead, he’d actually slid his arm down around Wade and pulled him closer. He’d  _ leaned into it _ , even tilted his head back to give Wade more room! 

So  _ obviously  _ Wade was going to straddle his lap to get a better angle. And if Nathan was going to then put his hands all over Wade’s ass, Wade was going to kiss him and bite at his lips instead of his neck. 

Nathan had been an instigator, and he did absolutely nothing to discourage Wade once he got going. Hell, he even did that thing where he ran his fingers up and down Wade’s spine while they kissed which he  _ knew  _ got Wade hot and bothered.  _ And  _ that thing where he slid one hand up Wade’s shirt while the other tugged down the waistband of his sweatpants. Criminal behavior, in Wade’s opinion. 

So  _ of course _ Wade had to drag Nathan to the floor, because he was way too big to do it on the couch. Wade  _ would _ take responsibility for leaving a small stash of lube and condoms in every room, but if responsible sexual practices were wrong, Wade didn’t want to be right. 

Anyway. 

If Nathan didn’t want to have sex he shouldn’t have given Wade those bedroom eyes and told him (very sexily) that he wanted Wade inside of him. That was practically giving him permission to fuck him into the carpet!

Wait, that was giving him permission. 

Whatever. 

Also, if Nathan had wanted it quick and dirty, he should have said so then, and also not made his moves while they were watching a movie with a theme song so slow and heartfelt. How could it be Wade’s fault that the dim lighting and the dulcet baritone of Humphrey Bogart put him in a languid, dreamy mood? Nathan hadn’t argued. 

Okay, well, except for the parts where he started to squirm and asked Wade to speed up. And  _ yeah _ , Wade had kind of deliberately been driving him up the wall, especially when he put his ear to Nathan’s chest and listened to his heart beat faster and faster as Wade opened him up bit by bit. 

And oh boy, could Nathan Summers beg when he wanted to. 

**[Details redacted. Some things are just for us.]**

But who could blame him for taking his time? The way Nathan’s toes curled, the way his back arched, the desperate little moans in the back of his throat… With Nathan under him, around him, arching against him and digging his fingers into any part of Wade he could reach, well, anybody would be tempted to draw out the moment as long as they could. 

“...and that’s why it’s not my fault and also why I should suffer no repercussions for my actions,” Wade said, slung over Nathan’s shoulder. “Why are we still going to the bedroom?” 

“I’m going to present my rebuttal to your argument,” Nathan said.  

“Hee hee. 'Rebuttal'.” 

“...over the next few hours.” 

“Uh oh.” 

“Yeah,” Nathan said, kicking the door shut behind him. “‘Uh oh’.” 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Wade turned the handle and paused, listening hard. The sound of rushing water continued. No sign he’d been heard. With great care, he pushed the door open inch by inch. When there was just enough space to squeeze in, he slipped through.

The bathroom was as horrendously decorated as the rest of the house, but the shower itself was a really nice one, the kind you normally only saw in particularly fancy hotels, or mansions with gold toilets. Rainfall shower head, little alcoves in the wall for various toiletries, the works. The stall itself was clear glass and took up a good third of the room.

In short, exactly what Wade needed. 

Nathan was turned towards the wall and Wade took a moment to appreciate the view. The water streaked down Nathan’s back, rivulets of water running around powerful muscles that bunched and stretched as he moved. The TO gleamed like silver, and Wade could have watched the light slide and skim across it for hours.

Could have, but didn’t, because he was on a mission.  

Wade bit his lip and pushed the door shut behind him. He lifted each foot with care, bringing it down softly. Though he moved with the exaggerated grace of a cartoon character, his steps were silent. He was, after all, a professional. Movements unhurried but deliberate, Wade crossed the room, eyes fixed on his oblivious prey.

“Can I help you?”

Okay, maybe not so oblivious.

Wade released his sneaky cat burglar pose and scowled.

“How did you know?” he demanded. “I was totally quiet!”

“The temperature changed when you opened the door,” Nathan explained. Then he tapped the very shiny temperature dial. “And I saw you in the reflection.”

“Ugh, cheater— _don’t you say it._ ”

Nathan turned. He was smirking, one eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?” he asked again.

“I had a question.”

A tilt of the head indicated that he should continue.  

“You ever done it in the shower?”

Nathan’s smirk turned into a genuine smile of amusement.

“Once or twice.”

“Oh. But not with me!”

“No,” Nathan admitted. “Not with you.”

“Wanna?”

Wordlessly, Nathan pushed open the glass door to the shower stall. It was all the invitation Wade needed. He shucked out of his clothes in record time and scooted across the room. The moment he stepped under the shower spray, he flung his arms around Nathan’s neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Nathan put his hand on Wade’s ass, pressed their bodies together, and tugged the door shut again.

Wade moaned into Nathan’s mouth as the hand began to wander, stroking and squeezing.

“Man, you really like my ass.”

“One of the best I’ve ever seen,” Nathan said. Wade’s heart skipped a beat, which he hid by snorting and thumping Nathan gently on the shoulder.

“You don’t have to sweet talk me, y’know. You’re already in my pants.”

“Maybe I’m just saying it because it’s true. Or because I want you to hear it.”

Wade rolled his eyes.

“Psh. Yeah, sure. All the X-Men wear spandex; I know what I’m up against.”

“You wear it too,” Nathan pointed out.

“Yeah but you’ve also seen me _out_ of the spandex.” He gestured to his face. “You can’t tell me this butterface gets you hot and bothered.”

Without warning, Nathan shoved Wade back roughly, pinning him against wall with his body. Wade yelped – the tile was _cold_ – but didn’t struggle, too surprised to do anything but stare at Nathan.

“Does this not count as hot and bothered?” Nathan asked. Wade swallowed hard. Nathan’s erection pressed heavy against his hip, unmistakable in its intent. His mouth centimeters from Wade’s ear, Nathan murmured “If I didn’t find you attractive, I wouldn’t have spent the last two weeks fucking you against every flat surface in this house. I wouldn’t be planning to _continue_ to do it.”

Wade shivered, and it had less to do with the contrast of cold tile and hot water than it did the way Nathan’s low voice rumbled in his chest and the way his breath tickled Wade’s ear. Nathan began to rock a slow rhythm, hands on Wade’s hips to hold him steady.

“You can’t possibly believe I don’t find you attractive,” Nathan went on, still murmuring in Wade’s ear. “I’ve barely been able to keep my hands off of you. I still can’t.”

Wade bit his lip hard and watched as Nathan reached out and pumped a palmful of soap from the bottle.

“You can’t think I could see this,” he trailed his knuckles over Wade’s chest and abs slowly, “and not want it.”

Wade wanted to point out that Nathan didn’t exactly have a lot of options out here on the island, but before he could, Nathan wrapped a hand around their cocks and began to stroke, and every other thought flew right out of his brain.

“There’s more to you than your skin, Wade.”

“Yeah, there’s the crazy, too,” Wade said nervously. Sarcasm and friendly insults as a sign of friendship he was used to, especially from Nathan, but this was…something else. He was reminded, suddenly, of that day in the water, when Nathan saying he liked Wade was enough to get him hard.

**I believe this is called a praise kink.**

“Shut up,” Wade muttered. Nathan tightened his grip around their cocks and bit down hard on Wade’s earlobe.

“No,” he said fiercely. “You have an amazing body. You have an amazing _mouth_.”

Wade shivered, remembering The Blowjob That Would Not Stop, when he couldn’t make himself pull away from Nathan’s cock and Nathan didn’t want him to. He shivered again when Nathan took hold of his ass and dug his fingers in.

 “You’ve got the best ass I’ve ever fucked. Man or woman.”

Wade swallowed hard.

“Oh,” he said, lamely. “Well.” He tried to let it go and just enjoy the ride, but he couldn’t. It was like poking at an aching tooth, trying to see if it was going to crack apart. “Okay, but nobody else thinks I’m hot.”

“Everybody else is _shallow_ ,” Nathan growled, picking up his pace.

“S-So what, you’re the only one who can look past it? Or are you saying you have a cancer kink?”

“I don’t _care_ about your skin, Wade. Your skin means as much to me as anyone else’s skin; it doesn’t _matter_. And for the record, I _like_ your crazy. I like _you_. And when we are done in here, I am going to take you back to the bedroom and keep you there until you stop trying to explain to me why I shouldn’t want to.”

Wade came without warning, the fire in Nathan’s eyes and words dragging him to straight to orgasm, do not pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars or any dignity. He opened his mouth when Nathan pressed his lips to it, and could not shake the feeling he was opening himself up to much more than a kiss.

 

 

Wade let out a pleased little sigh as Nathan trailed fingertips down his chest to stroke his hip. Then he frowned. With a grunt of annoyance, he pushed Nathan’s flesh-and-blood hand away and grabbed the metal one, settling it firmly on his other hip, a mirror of the previous position.

“Why are you so obsessed with that hand?” Nathan asked, more amused than anything else.

“I dunno, why are you so obsessed with not touching me with it?”

“What are you talking about?” The amusement gave way to genuine confusion.

"You’ll only use it if you’re using both hands, or if I ask you to. Half the time you leave it on the bed or wherever and do everything one handed. I mean, come _on_.” He grabbed the hand in question and waved it around a little until Nathan pulled it back. “It’s _hot_. Did someone tell you techno-organic wasn’t sexy or something?”

“No,” Nathan lied. He was a good liar, and it probably would have fooled anyone else, but Wade knew Nathan best. Wade narrowed his eyes.

“Who? Neena? Irene? I bet it was Irene. Or someone in the future? Was it several someones?”

Nathan sat up, looking annoyed.

“No one has ever said anything one way or the other about my arm.”

“But they didn’t have to,” Wade suggested. Nathan’s lips pressed into a tight line and he looked away.

**Bang on the money.**

“There is nothing… _attractive_ about a virus that is constantly trying to eat me from the inside out.”

Wade rolled his eyes.

“Of course not, dingus. I’m not attracted to the _virus_. I’m attracted to the cool metal arm which is a side effect of the virus. Like how my healing factor causes me to exist in a perpetual state of dying from stage four cancer while also giving me the refractory period of a teenager. Which you can’t tell me you don’t find incredibly hot.”

Nathan couldn’t, because he had said as much to Wade. Several times that day alone. He still didn’t look convinced, though. Wade rolled his eyes mightily, grabbed Nathan’s hand by the wrist and slid two of the fingers into his mouth. Nathan had told him once that while he could feel things with that hand, it tended to be muted, like he was wearing gloves, albeit thin ones. Wade intended to make sure that he could feel this.

He slid the fingers back out, pressing his teeth down just enough to be felt. The sensation of scraping metal echoed through his skull, but Wade didn’t mind. He liked the little reminder, the way it couldn’t be anything other than the techno-organic mesh between his teeth. Wade kept one hand wrapped around Nathan’s wrist, just in case he got it into his head to pull away. The other one he trailed up and down Nathan’s arm, tracing the lines of the muscles as he went. He kissed across Nathan’s palm, sloppy open-mouthed ones, nosing at Nathan’s curled fingers.

It wasn’t sharp like tin or tasteless like stainless steel. It had an edge to it, cool and metallic but not bitter or burning. It was electric, metaphorically speaking, the feeling of all those little plates shifting under his tongue. He glanced up at Nathan. The man was watching him with wide eyes, clearly torn between confusion and arousal. Wade reached down and wrapped his hand around his own cock, slid the first two fingers back into his mouth. He sucked a little and Nathan twitched, letting out a sharp little sound. Wade moaned and sucked a little harder, not quite stroking his cock, but providing enough pressure to keep his arousal from becoming unbearable.

Nathan put his right hand on Wade’s chest and gently pushed him down onto his back. Wade went without resistance, keeping Nathan’s fingers in his mouth and his own hand on his cock. He was showing off a little, squirming on the bed and canting his hips just so, but it was worth it for the look on Nathan’s face. Stunned, awed, mouth parted slightly, pupils dark and eager, watching Wade get off on the smooth slide of metal against his tongue.

Nathan’s fingers twitched in Wade’s mouth, probably an involuntarily little thing, but it made Wade moan, and the noise made Nathan’s eyes go a little wider, made him breathe a little faster.

“You really do like it,” he whispered, still somehow surprised. Wade began to stroke himself, nodded, stared up at Nathan through half-lidded eyes, trying to find a good balance between slutty and sultry. It seemed to be working for Nathan.

The fingers in Wade’s mouth curled a little and he bit down, twisted his tongue between and around. Wade grabbed Nathan’s wrist and brought it in, taking more of his fingers into his mouth until Nathan’s thumb and his remaining fingers were pressed across Wade’s jaw, almost cradling it. Wade moaned, tasting the metal all the way in the back of his throat.

“ _Shit_ ,” Nathan hissed and it was so fucking funny to hear mutant Jesus swear that Wade actually snickered around his mouthful. Wade winked at Nathan and wrapped his legs loosely around the other man’s waist, not quite holding him, but making it clear that Nathan wasn’t going anywhere until they were done. Wade had A Point To Make.

Nathan started to pull his fingers away and Wade bit down hard. This time the sensation of teeth-on-metal echoed all the way up to his eyeballs, which made parts of him squirm in delight and pain at the same time.

“Nuh-uh,” he managed with a stern glare.  

“Just…just trust me, please,” Nathan said, and Wade was so shocked at how absolutely _wrecked_ Nathan sounded that his mouth popped open. Nathan traced his fingers over Wade’s lips. Wade flicked his tongue out, catching the fingertips as they passed. Nathan slid them back into Wade’s mouth…and then out again…and then in.

**Oh my god, we are literally giving him a literal hand job.**

Nathan curled and twisted his fingers and Wade followed every motion with his tongue. The metal was warm and slick, and Wade kept getting distracted by the texture. There were no hard edges or rough spots. The only breaks in the soft, smooth metal were the edges of the segments, ever shifting as Nathan’s joints moved this way and that. Wade squirmed, hand moving faster on his cock. With a lurch, Nathan leaned forward, free hand grabbing onto the bed. He shifted their position so his hips were grinding against Wade’s. His good eye was fully dilated, his other one glowed so brightly it left spots when Wade blinked.

“God, you love it, don’t you? You really do.”

Wade moaned, cradling Nathan’s arm in both hands, groping at the muscles and feeling the plates shift beneath his fingers and against his tongue at the same time.

Nathan came first with a choked off noise, arm trembling where it held him up, eyes never leaving Wade’s face. He let Wade keep working on his fingers, tracing his thumb over Wade’s cheekbone until he came, too.

Only then did Nathan pull his fingers away and collapse onto the bed beside Wade.

“So,” Wade said after they both caught their breath. “Do you get it now?”

“I get it,” Nathan said, voice still rough and throaty.

“So in the future, when we fuck, you will…?”

“Use both hands,” Nathan finished, just a touch of amusement in his voice. Wade reached over and patted him on the thigh.

“Attaboy.”

That seemed to be the end of that, but when they went to sleep that night, Nathan curled up next to him, an arm laid loosely over him. Not quite spooning, but pretty damn close. Wade decided against bringing it up – he _liked_ being the little spoon.

Just as he was falling asleep, he felt something brush against his neck, so soft and light he almost wasn’t sure what it was. It might have been Nathan breathing. It might have been a kiss. He was asleep before he could ask, and in the morning, he chalked it up to a dream.

 

 

There were some moments where Wade would look at his life and just have to wonder at how crazy it was, at all the weird stupid shit that happened to him over the years. How all of the events of his life, good and bad, were leading him down a road that would eventually end with him sitting on an armchair on a tropical island receiving a blowjob from Nathan Goddamn Summers.

Wade had to keep his eyes closed, because the sight of Nathan between his legs was nearly enough to make him come right then and there. Unlike literally every other time Wade had had sex, he was silent. It wasn’t conscious or deliberate, he just couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Nathan had reduced him to little gasping whimpers, soft hitches of breath in the back of his throat.

He ran his hands through Nathan’s hair, scratching his nails lightly against his scalp. Nathan let out a low, pleased noise that made Wade shiver. Wade gasped, soft and shuddering as Nathan did something very tricky with his tongue.

Suddenly, horror of horrors, Nathan was pulling away. He shifted his grip so his thumb was pressed firmly against the underside of Wade’s cock, the pad of his finger rubbing gently against the head. Wade squirmed. Not that he didn’t enjoy handjobs, but it was nothing compared to the glory of Nathan’s mouth.

“You’re very quiet,” Nathan said, a small crease of concern between his eyebrows. Wade made a wordless noise to acknowledge that this was so. “Are you okay?”

Wade nodded.

“I just want to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.”

Oh that stupid, sexy, thoughtful son of a bitch, wasting time worrying about Wade’s wellbeing. Wade tried to reconnect his mouth to his brain.

“ _Good_ ,” he managed to croak.

“What?”

“Fffuck, blowjob good, talking hard, don’t _stop_!”

“Ah. I see.” _Now_ Nathan was teasing, eyes shining with amusement. “I didn’t realize this was all it took to make you be quiet.”

Nathan was being a tease, which meant Wade could be rude, so he put a hand on the back of Nathan’s head and shoved him down towards his crotch. Nathan went without resistance, once again enveloping Wade in that blissful soft warmth.

Wade let out a loud moan of pleasure, which stretched out into a surprised whine when Nathan kept pushing down… and down… until there was no more down to go. Nathan glanced up and locked eyes with Wade, who immediately had to look up at the ceiling and try not to dwell on the sight of being deepthroated by Nathan goddamn Summers.

Nathan pushed Wade’s legs up and over the arms of the chair to make more room, leaving Wade splayed wide open before him. Wade whimpered, hands gripping at Nathan’s shoulders as the man began to bob up and down. He wanted to say something, _anything_ , but he couldn’t even think in complete sentences, let alone get a whole word out.

“Na- fu- sh- oh- ple- I- oh, oh, _ohh_ —“

Nathan slid his hands up Wade’s thighs, holding him in place with a firm grip, which only made it worse/better (depending on how you looked at it, and Wade couldn’t look at it at all).  Wade’s back arched up, his shoulders pressed against the chair cushions, his chest heaved as his orgasm hurtled towards him.

He struggled to get his brain in some semblance of working order. Mindbreaking skill or no, certain rules of etiquette had to be followed.

“I’m gon—Nate I’m gonna—You have to—I’m—“

Nathan moaned deep in the back of his throat and did not pull away. Wade’s nails squeaked against Nathan’s metal shoulder as he realized what that meant. Nathan wanted Wade to come—He had all of Wade in his mouth —Nathan Summers had Wade’s cock all the way down to his throat— wanted to keep it there—Nathan wanted Wade’s come in his mouth, wanted to swallow it, wanted to _taste_ it—

 Wade’s head snapped back and though his eyes and mouth opened wide, not a single sound escaped his lips as he came. Nathan rolled with the motion of Wade’s hips, lips and tongue working as he swallowed, keeping Wade in his mouth until the other man was utterly spent and limp in the chair. He paused as he pulled off, mouthing at the head of Wade’s cock as if he was reluctant to be finished. If Wade wasn’t certifiably brain dead from the intensity of his orgasm, he’d have gotten hard all over again.

 “…ade? Wade?”

Wade managed to pry an eyelid open. Nathan was hovering over him, looking worried.

“Nn?”

“Are you okay?”

Wade struggled to hold up one hand, fingers outstretched.

“Five?”

 “Gimme five,” he managed to rasp, eyelid falling shut again.

The looming presence disappeared. Wade focused on his breathing.

A hand between his shoulder blades encouraged him to sit up, and a glass was pressed to his lips. Wade drank deeply and sighed.

“Better?” Nathan asked. The worry line was back.

“And they call _me_ the Merc with the Mouth. Oh my god. Messiah with the Mouth. Tack that on to your list of titles. Do it. It’s accurate. Oh my god I think you just sucked my soul out through my dick. I can never get a blowjob from anyone else ever again. You’re the witch from _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ , except blowjobs instead of Turkish delight.”

Nathan smiled.

“You found your voice. That’s good.”

“Shut up.” Wade kicked at him weakly. “Where did you learn to suck dick so good?”

“Practice,” Nathan said with good humor. “How else do you get good at something?”

Wade covered his face in his hands.

“Oh my god, don’t _say_ that. If I get another erection I might literally die.”

Nathan pulled his hands away and kissed him softly on the mouth. 

“Jizz breath. Gross.”

Nathan rolled his eyes and straightened up, but before he could pull away, Wade grabbed him by the belt loops.

“Ah ah, not so fast. My turn.”

“You don’t have to.”

 “I have a hard time getting laid as it is. Do you know how much harder it would be if word got around I didn’t reciprocate?”

Nathan’s face did something funny. A darkness flashed in his eyes, just for a moment, and was gone.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Nathan said, quite clearly forcing the airy tone. Wade rolled his eyes and tugged him back as he tried to turn away again.

“Okay, _fine_ , I wanna suck your dick because I like sucking your dick. Christ on a cracker.”

Nathan smiled, a genuine one this time.

“Well in that case,” he said, and began to unbuckle his belt.


	6. Chapter 6

Wade didn’t sleep with one eye open. Your eyes could get all dried out that way, and it was never restful. Maybe Wade couldn’t die from sleep deprivation, but that sure didn’t mean he’d put up with it. Besides, getting attacked in his sleep was rarely more bothersome than setting his alarm clock too early. Anything less than an actual knife to the ribs tended not to wake him up.

So it was unusual to say the least when Wade woke up in the middle of the night to absolutely nothing. No explosions, no yelling, no gunshots, just the soft susurrus of the waves against the sand. He was just thinking that he hadn’t had a nightmare either, when he recognized the sensation of being watched.

Looking sharply to his left he locked eyes with Nathan.

“Sorry,” Nathan whispered, sounding slightly guilty. “Did I wake you up?”

“It’s fine,” Wade whispered back. He wasn’t sure why he was being so quiet, but something about the night’s peace made even him reluctant to disturb it.

The moon was waning, but let in enough light to trace the world in grey and silver, dreamy and surreal. Even Nathan’s eye seemed dim, although maybe he was doing that so he wouldn’t blind Wade with his built-in flashlight. Nate was courteous that way.

Courteous, and still staring.

“What’s up?” Wade asked.

Nathan’s eyes tracked over Wade’s face, searching for something.

“Nothing,” he said softly. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Wade’s. In stark contrast to all the other kisses they’d shared so far, it was…gentle. No desperate grabbing or grinding, not even any tongue. It somehow felt more intimate than all the times he’d had Nathan’s dick inside him, or even vice versa.

When it ended, Nathan didn’t pull away and neither did Wade. Nathan brought his hand up and gently stroked his knuckles over Wade’s cheek. There was a look in his eye that Wade couldn’t name that made his guts tangle up into knots – but not in a bad way.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Wade managed to say.

**Really? Really? That’s what you’re going with? _Really?_**

“I’m glad you came with me,” Nathan said.

 

He reached out and cupped Wade’s face, tracing a thumb over his cheekbone. “I know I…I haven’t always been a good friend.”

Nathan didn’t say ‘humiliated you in front of the world (twice), made you unemployable (twice), made you hallucinate in order to manipulate you into being my friend again (once, but oh boy was that a big ‘un)’. He didn’t really have to. It hovered over the bed, doing a little dance and waving down at them.

 “Nobody’s perfect, Nate. And I’m mostly over that.” He may or may not actually be over it. Wade definitely was one to hold a grudge, but for Nathan…well he had an easier time letting things go, when it came to Nathan. Make of that what you will.

**GOSH IT’S ALMOST LIKE HE MEANS MORE TO YOU THAN ANYONE ELSE DOES HMM I WONDER WHY THAT IS.**

Wade tried to silently tell the font box to fuck right off, thanks.

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot, lately,” Nathan said. His lips were very distracting, and it took a little more of Wade’s concentration than was entirely polite to not stare at them or kiss them. This was the kind of conversation one should really be present for.

“Really?” he said, which was kind of a bullshit non-response, but he couldn’t think of anything better to say. He didn’t know where Nathan was going with this. “I would have thought all the sex would be pretty distracting.”

Nathan chuckled softly.

“In between that. There’s a lot of time to think out here.” His smile faded. “I keep thinking about why I did it. Why it seemed like a good idea at the time. I keep trying to remember how I justified it to myself.”

“Pretty sure you said something along the lines of ‘for my own good’.” Wade was beginning to feel irritated. The memory alone grated on his nerves, and now Nathan was interrupting the non-stop Island Sexy Funtimes Train to bring up old baggage.

Nathan sighed heavily and rolled onto his back.

“I wanted to keep you in my life,” he said to the ceiling, “but I couldn’t admit it. And I couldn’t – didn’t want to let anyone think that I regretted the decisions I made.”

Wade rolled onto his own back and stared up at the ceiling as well, as if maybe something up there might make the conversation less unpleasant. The irritation was growing, squirming in his stomach. He didn’t want to think about all of that, the rage and frustration and humiliation and _betrayal--_

“Did you have a point to this conversation or…?” It came out sharp, but there really wasn’t any other way for it to come out.

“I _think_ I’m trying to apologize,” Nathan said with a wry tone. The self-deprecation was funny enough that it took Wade a few seconds to realize what he was saying.

“Wait _really_?” Wade couldn’t remember whether or not Nathan had apologized to him during their confrontation, but the fact that he was doing it now, voluntarily, without a gun in his face or a grenade with no pin, was…well it was _something_ all right.

**Gosh this sure is an important heart-to-heart conversation. Maybe we should contribute in equal measure somehow. Just a thought.**

 “I mean, I wasn’t exactly Mother Theresa,” he said awkwardly. “I’ve done some pretty messed up stuff. I screwed up your plans a lot. Got in your way. …tried to kill you.” He muttered the last bit.  

“I know. But it’s one thing for me to say the end justifies the means when the end is making the world a better place. It’s another when it’s just…pettiness. You’re your own person, Wade. Just because you’re my friend doesn’t mean you have to do what I want you to do. I’m sorry.”

Wade thought about this, considered it from the various angles, matched it up to the leftover sour feelings the memories brought with them. After a minute or two he rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Nathan.

“That is the sexiest thing you have ever said to me,” he said gravely.

“Wade, I’m being serious.”

“Me too.” Wade leaned down and kissed him softly. He hadn’t meant anything more than that, but then Nathan put his hands on Wade’s back, pulling him down the rest of the way. One kiss turned into two, then three. Soon they’d both peeled out of their underwear and were moving together. It was slow, and a little drowsy, both of them half falling back  to sleep now that the serious conversations were out of the way. The moonlight made everything feel dreamlike, as if Wade had wandered into a very erotic black and white film. They let their hands drift, but their mouths didn’t move far from each other. The bold font kept trying to tell him something very important, but Wade wasn’t listening.

There was no earth-shaking orgasm this time, just a slow wave of pleasure that went from his head to his toes, a soft release of tension, relaxing into Nathan’s arms. He didn’t even notice when he fell asleep.

 

 

Wade woke up the next morning with Nathan curled tight around him. This was definitely big spoon/little spoon territory and it was hard to deny that having Nathan holding on like a giant koala was really…nice. Not even sexy, just _nice_. Comfortable.

He reached down and laced his fingers together with Nathan’s, pulling his hand up so his arm was wrapped a little more fully around him. He’d let go when Nathan woke up, or claim he’d been sleeping, or even blame it on Nathan. For right now, this was good.

The phone rang.

The sound was shrill and cut through the air like a saw through bone, shredding the peace into pieces. Nathan started awake and Wade hurriedly pulled his hand free.

“What--?” Nathan started, sitting up. He blinked, bleary-eyed, still half asleep.

The phone rang.

“Oh.”

Wade and Nathan glanced at each other, and then away.

“I’ll just…I’ll go get it,” Nathan said. As if there was a chance that anyone on the other end had anything to say to Wade besides “put Nathan on the phone”. As if they didn’t both know what the phone call meant. He climbed out of bed and went down the hallway to the kitchen.

The phone rang again, and cut off half-way through as Nathan picked it up. Wade could hear the rumble of his voice, even though he tried not to.

 “Hello?  Oh. Good. Great. I… give me a day or so, alright? I need to put the place back together. No! He— everything was fine.  Everything was fine. I’ll see you soon.”

Wade lurched to his feet, needing to do something, to run, to fight, to yell, to be in motion and making noise instead of sitting there staring out the window like a lobotomy patient. He dragged his suitcase out from under the bed and began to shove things into it haphazardly.

He’d fucking _forgotten_. He had forgotten why they were there on that island, forgotten that this was a temporary set up, forgotten that at any moment that call could have come and dragged everything back into Normal Town.

 “Wade?”

“We should clean up,” Wade said. “At the very least Febreeze the place, maybe light some candles. Wolverine’ll probably be able to smell the sex on us, but it’s worth a try. The last thing we want is everyone knowing we’ve been dancing the horizontal, vertical, and zigzag tango all over the house.”

 “Wade—“

He tossed a pair of jeans and a shirt over his arm and slipped out the door when Nathan reached for him.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, see if I can’t scrub the sex-stink off. Oh, you should probably do something about all those handprints on the glass from the time you—“

“Wade!” Nathan grabbed him by the arm and pushed him hard against the wall.

“What?” Wade asked, feigning indifference. Nathan’s eyes dragged over his face, looking for something. Wade kept his carefully casual smile firmly in place.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing’s the matter with me. I’m fine.” Nathan didn’t let go. “I’m _fine_ , Nathan.” He pushed Nathan back, forcing him to let go. “Look, this was fun and all, but now it’s time to get back to the real world. We clean up, we go home, and in a few days, it was like it never even happened.”

Nathan’s expression went blank, but in a very careful sort of way.

“Is that what you want? To pretend this never happened?”

“I don’t wanna fight about this, alright? This is better for everyone.”

The blank expression grew a little blanker, and Nathan stepped back.

“Alright,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”

“Sure. You start packing, I’ll start cleanup.” Wade didn’t let his surprise show. Nathan had never backed down from an argument that fast, not in all the time they’d known each other. Maybe he hadn’t needed that much convincing. Maybe Wade was just getting really good at arguing. But a win was a win, right?

**Hooray for us.**

The flight back home was tense, though Wade couldn’t be sure how much was between him and Nathan and how much was stressing over whether or not Logan could smell twenty-seven days worth of sex on them. He didn’t say anything, and his expression seemed to be its usual level of irritated, but Wade had been _sure_ when he landed that Logan’s nose had twitched a little.

The minute they touched down at the mansion, Nathan was swarmed by friends and family eager to see him again. Everyone wanted to say hi, everyone wanted to tell him what had happened, Jean had to ruffle his hair and look him over and make sure he hadn’t lost any weight. Nobody so much as looked at Wade. Nobody cared if _he_ was okay.

 _Fine by me,_ Wade thought viciously. _Be careful not to take your shirt off for a while,_ Priscilla, _or you better be ready with a story about a rabid monkey attacking you from behind._  

Nathan was smiling and greeting everyone, but Wade could tell by the way he was angled that he was intent on cornering Wade as soon as he could get them both alone. Wade was _so_ not having that. He did one heartfelt emotional conversation a decade, and Nathan had used his up last night. The back of Wade’s neck went hot.

He did not want to think about last night.

**Personally, I think it would be best for everyone if you did. Last night was really important, and not just because of the sex, okay? See-**

Wade jammed his thumbnail into the soft skin of his lower arm until the bold font went away. He waited until Jean was playfully pinching Nathan’s cheeks and demanding in an old lady voice if he had “any idea how worried I’ve been, young man”. Then he grabbed his bag and slipped out the door, knowing for a fact that anyone who saw him leave would be glad he didn’t stick around.

Wade locked himself in his apartment and did not come out for a week. In that time, he got four texts from Weasel, two calls and a worried emoji from Sandy, a call from Blind Al, and twelve fucking calls and voicemails from Nathan, who apparently could not take a goddamn _hint_.

Wade only tried to listen to the voicemails once, after the seventh call.

 _‘Wade, it’s me. Again. I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but I really think we should talk. I…”_ A sudden rush of static as Nathan sighed. _‘I don’t even know if you’re actually listening to these. I don’t like how we ended things on the island, and I don’t think you did either. Just…just talk to me. Please.’_

There was a note of desperation in that word that made Wade’s heart drop into his guts. He buried the phone under the couch cushions and curled up on the floor of his shower, fully clothed.

**And very definitely did not cry, not even a little bit. It’s important that everyone know that.**


	7. Chapter 7

And on the eighth day, someone came to his door. He was halfway through a Law and Order marathon, which wasn’t doing anything at all to make him feel better. Normally Golden Girls was his go-to, but Wade had never been in a mood quite as foul and complicated as this one, and he felt like wallowing in it.

When the knock came, he almost jumped out of his fucking skin.

Another knock. He hurriedly turned off the tv, half-hoping to give the impression that no one was home, only to realize too late the sudden silence gave him away. There were a couple people who might come knock on his door to check on him after vanishing off the face of the earth, but Wade had a terrible suspicion he knew exactly who it was.

A suspicion confirmed when the door unlocked itself from the inside.

**Cheating! Again!**

Before he could catch a glimpse of Nathan, Wade flopped over on the couch and buried his head under a pillow, bringing it down tight around his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe if he just lay here and didn’t react to anything, Nathan would give up and go home.

It was a stupid thought. Nathan never gave up about anything. He only claimed he would and then came back to bother you with a million phone calls and a break in.  

The pillow began to lift off of his head. Wade tightened his grip and yelped as he was dragged up with it. Nathan stood a few feet from the couch, arms folded, a stern expression on his face. The pillow hovered above the couch, held aloft by stupid fancy mind powers.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Wade glared at him, hands still latched firmly to the pillow, bent awkwardly in a hands-free bhujangasana like the world’s ugliest yoga teacher.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Why?”

“Cause I knew you were gonna make it weird. Give me back my pillow.”

“No.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

“ _Uuuuugh_.” Wade released the pillow and thumped back down on the couch. “Why can’t you just let shit go like a normal person?” he asked, muffled by the couch cushion.  

“We need to talk.”

“No.”

**Yes!**

“I’m not leaving until we do.”

“I’m calling the police.”

“No you won’t.”

Damnit. He’d called Wade’s not-very-good bluff. That was the thing about being a known murderer: you couldn’t rely on Johnny Law not arresting you instead of Jesus 2.0.

 “What is there to talk about? We fucked for a month straight, we decided we were going to leave it at that, we left, we moved on.”

“Did we? You haven’t left your apartment in ten days; that doesn’t exactly sound like ‘moved on’ to me.”

 “ _You_ moved on!”

“I called you twelve times and left you increasingly maudlin voicemails. No, Wade, I have not moved on.”

“‘Maudlin’, who even talks like that,” Wade said, because the alternative was to focus on the fact that Nathan had just more or less admitted to pining. At the very least, to having an emotion, which was almost as terrifying. “What the hell do we even have to talk about? Aren’t you supposed to be from a non-monogamous free-love future where sex and love don’t intersect?”

“Sex and love don’t _have_ to intersect. That doesn’t mean they can’t. Things have changed between us—“

“No, they haven’t!”

**Yes, they have!**

“If they hadn’t changed, you wouldn’t be hiding from me.”

“I’m not _hiding_! I’m _recovering._ And if I was hiding-- _”_

“Which you aren’t,” Nathan interjected sarcastically.

“—then I’m only hiding because you wouldn’t quit being weird about it!”

“I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I tried, because you said that’s what you wanted, and I _can’t_. I miss you.” The last bit was said softly, with all the open, raw emotion Wade desperately wanted and didn’t want to hear. He snatched up the remote and turned on the television.

“When you quit being weird about it, we can start hanging out like buddies again. Now go away. I’m watching my stories.”

The TV turned itself off.

“Hey!”

“That’s not what I miss.”

“If you need to get your dick wet so bad, go call up Neena,” Wade snapped.

“That’s not what I miss either.”

“What the fuck else is there?”

“You know _exactly_ what I mean.”

“Do not,” Wade said stubbornly, ignoring the insistent **do too!** He turned the TV on. It immediately shut itself off. He turned it on. Off. On. Off. Wade slammed the remote down. “Go away, and leave me alone!”

“Wade, I’m not playing this game with you. I don’t _want_ to pretend the last month didn’t happen.”

“Nate, c’mon. The island was a pipe dream. We both know it can’t be real. _This_ can’t be real.” He gestured between the two of them.

“I _don’t_ know that. Why can’t it be real? I—“

“Don’t say it.”

“I—“

“ _Don’t._ ”

“I love you.” 

“Fuck me,” Wade said, and this time is was a curse. “It doesn’t _work_ like that, Nathan!”

“What doesn’t work like what?”

“The _world_!” Wade yelled, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You do not go off to a deserted island with your buddy and then slowly learn you’re in love vis-à-vis extensive fucking!”

“It happened to us.”

“No, it didn’t. You’re just confused.”

Nathan’s eyebrows went up.

“I’m confused,” he repeated flatly.

“It happens,” Wade insisted. He rose up from the couch and spread his hands. In an understanding tone, he said “Look. We were alone on that island for a long time. I was the only person you had to talk to. We were having a lot of sex. It’s like mutual Stockholm syndrome. Trust me, when everything has gone back to normal, you’ll realize I was right and you’ll feel really silly about the whole thing.”

Nathan stared at him, eyebrows raised, and Wade scowled. He headed for the door, thinking if Nathan wouldn’t leave, _he_ would leave. Maybe some fresh air would clear away the feeling that his guts were cosplaying the Gordian Knot.

“You said mutual.”

Wade froze.

“What?”

“You said, it’s like _mutual_ Stockholm syndrome.”

“No I didn’t.”  

“You did,” Nathan insisted, and Wade hated, _hated_ that he could hear a tiny note of hope in his voice. It made him feel sick. He was going to have to crush that hope into teeny tiny pieces and he felt like an absolute dick about it.

**I mean, you don’t _have_ to. **

“I do,” Wade said.

“What?”

“I said I did, yes, but I just meant that nobody was holding anybody hostage, that’s all. Quit reading into things, Mr Mind Reader.”

“So you don’t feel the way I feel.”

“What you are feeling _isn’t real_.” He turned around to glare at Nathan. “Give it two months and it’ll wear off.”

“And what if I don’t realize that? What if in two months I’m still in love with you?”

“Then you need to give it another two!” Wade snapped.

“And what if that doesn’t do it? What if I wait six months? What if I wait a year? What if—“ Nathan stepped in front of Wade, cutting off his exit. “What if wasn’t the sex? What if it was me being able to spend time with you without distractions? What if that uninterrupted time let me put the feelings I already had into context?”

“It wasn’t,” Wade said.

“What if it was?”

“It wasn’t!”

“How do you know?”

Wade made a strangling motion at the air.

“Because it doesn’t _work_ like that! This is real life, not a fucking rom com! You _can’t_ be in love with me.”

“Why?” Nathan demanded, impossibly stubborn and infuriating and Wade hated him so goddamn much.

**Do not.**

“That’s not _helping_!” Wade yelled.

“What isn’t helping?”

“You! Asking that stupid question a million times like the answer’s going to change if you just ask the right way!”

“You haven’t given me any answers, Wade! You just keep telling me that I’m not feeling what I’m feeling. I know myself enough to recognize my own emotions.”

“You don’t!”

Nathan kissed him, and Wade melted. He’d gotten used to constant physical affection, to Nathan being always within arm’s reach, ready and eager. The world had seemed awfully cold lately, and it had nothing to do with leaving the tropics.

The kiss went deeper, got long and slow, the kind of kisses they’d shared in the evenings as they lay in bed, post-coital and content. Wade couldn’t find any desire in him to pull away. He didn’t want to do anything more than reach up and cup the back of Nathan’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair.

Nathan’s grip around him tightened, and Wade shivered. He felt safe in those arms, guarded from the world, needed, wanted, lov—

He jerked free, shoving Nathan away with all his might.

“That is _not_ a compelling argument,” he snarled, despite all evidence to the contrary. Already he could feel himself starting to waver, filled with a yearning to just say fuck it and throw himself back into those arms. “All that proves is that we’re sexually attracted to each other and we already knew that!”

**It would prove a lot more if you would just _listen-_**

“If you don’t return my feelings, just say so. I can accept that. But don’t tell me I don’t understand my own emotions. I know the difference between love and lust.”

Wade turned his back on Nathan.

“I don’t love you,” he said woodenly to the wall. There was a silence behind him. When Nathan spoke again, his voice was soft and gently prodding, more a genuine question than an accusation.

“Can you say that to my face?”

“You’re changing the _rules_ ,” Wade snarled, shoulders going tense. He didn’t know if he could. He didn’t think he wanted to try. He wasn’t even sure if he could keep having this conversation for much longer.

“This has nothing to do with rules, Wade. If you’re going to turn me down, I want you to have the decency to look me in the eyes when you do it.”

Frustration flared into fury and he whirled around, mouth open to tell him that yes, Wade meant it, he didn’t love Nathan, everything on the island had been about sex and not a goddamn thing more and Nathan needed to accept that and let it the fuck go.

**Do I have to spell it out for you? I can do a best-of collection of the ways he makes you feel. Maybe a black and white flashback montage of every time he’s ever made you feel like a person worthy of respect and affection? Should I replay the apology conversation with the volume turned way up? What is it going to _take_ , dude?**

He tried, God knew he did, but the words stuck fast in Wade’s throat. In the end, all he managed to get out was “It won’t _work_ ,” he said. He was shocked at how desperate he sounded. More shocked by how desperate and frightened he _felt._

“Who are you trying to convince?” Nathan asked, stepping forward and taking Wade’s hands in his own. His eyes were soft and painfully fond. It made Wade want to hide under the couch, or kiss him, or punch him. “Don’t you even want to try?”

 “But what if it doesn’t—“

“What if it does?” Nathan reached up and stroked a thumb over Wade’s cheek. “I’m willing to risk it. And if it goes horribly wrong, you can say I told you so all you want.”

 “But…”

**Listen, genius, Life has been shitting on us pretty consistently throughout our entire life, but right now the only thing preventing the magical rom-com happy ending is _you_. **

 “Well…olive juice too, or whatever, I guess,” Wade croaked.

Anybody else would have been confused or exasperated or annoyed, but Nathan knew Wade as well as Wade knew Nathan, and he just smiled like he’d been handed the whole world. He pulled Wade into his arms and kissed him again, the kind of kiss that made Wade’s toes curl up. Time seemed to slow down. The rest of the world fell away, soft music played, and Wade swore he could smell the ocean.  

“Look at that,” Nathan said when they finally parted. “The world didn’t end.”

“Shut up,” Wade said, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “Smug is a terrible look on you.”

“I’ve heard otherwise.”

“You have _not_ , you liar.”

Nathan kissed him again. Wade allowed this, and continued to allow it for several minutes, before a very important thought occurred.

“You know what,” Wade said against Nathan’s mouth.

“Hmm?”

“We managed to fuck on every single surface of that house. That’s a really impressive record.”

“Mm-hm…” Nathan agreed, and from the way his hands were sliding down Wade’s back, he knew where this was going.

In a soft, scandalized tone, Wade said “But we haven’t had sex on _any_ of the surfaces in this apartment.”

Nathan’s hands came to rest on Wade’s ass.

“We should do something about that.”

Wade nodded fervently.

“I vote we start here on the floor and work our way in,” he said.

“I vote we start with the bed and work our way out.”

“You liked doing it on the floor plenty on the island. What’s wrong with my floor?”

“The house on the island didn’t have a carpet.”

“Oh, look at Mr. Messiah over here, afraid of a little rug burn!” He put his arms around Nathan’s neck and with no warning, hopped up to wrap his legs around his waist. Nathan only just managed to stop himself from falling over. “We can start with the bed, but you need to raw me on the rug like a big boy, Nathan.”

“I’d really rather not.”

“We’ll put a sheet down, you absolute _wuss_.”

Nathan laughed and carried him into the bedroom. For a few minutes, the apartment was silent, save for the occasional soft, happy noise.

Nathan’s phone rang.

The cellphone came flying out of the room and hit the wall. It clattered to the floor, the sound punctuating Wade’s delighted laugh. The bedroom door slammed shut, and it did not open again for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, we finish. Thanks for your patience and your comments -- I loved every single one.


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